


Baby It's Cold Outside

by CGotAnAccount



Series: The ADVENTure Continues! [20]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Grumpy Cold Boys, M/M, Shmeith, Snowy Vacations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: “Whose idea was this again?” Matt chatters, his whole body shivering violently as he hops between Shiro's footprints in the snow, looking for all the world like an abominable snowman in training with the way his fleece has begun to collect flakes. “I don't remember signing up for this.”“You literally booked the fight,” Keith grumbles back, rubbings his arms through his coat with his mittened hands – nevermind that it was his name on the cabin reservation.“Come on guys, it's not that bad.” Shiro tries to reassure them with his best golden boy smile, even as he struggles to stomp through the thick crust on top of the snow. “We made the drive up here safely at least.”
Relationships: Matt Holt/Keith/Shiro
Series: The ADVENTure Continues! [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034982
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	Baby It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> ADVENTure Day 20!

“Whose idea was this again?” Matt chatters, his whole body shivering violently as he hops between Shiro's footprints in the snow, looking for all the world like an abominable snowman in training with the way his fleece has begun to collect flakes. “I don't remember signing up for this.”

“You literally booked the fight,” Keith grumbles back, rubbings his arms through his coat with his mittened hands – nevermind that it was his name on the cabin reservation.

“Come on guys, it's not that bad.” Shiro tries to reassure them with his best golden boy smile, even as he struggles to stomp through the thick crust on top of the snow. “We made the drive up here safely at least.”

“We almost drove off the mountain like three times,” Matt points out.

“Almost means we didn't.”

“Almost wish we had,” Keith grunts, wincing as his mitten sticks to the half-frozen snot on his face when he tries to wipe his nose, “at least hell is warm.”

“Yeah, what he said.” Matt turns his most pathetic expression on Shiro, flapping his own mittens in distress. “I can't feel my fingers anymore.”

“You two literally agreed to come here,” Shiro bites back, exasperation starting to creep into his tone as he continues kicking a path for the other two, “I put forward several options, and you chose snowy cabin... that's literally what the option said – _snowy cabin_.”

“But I didn't know it would be _so_ snowy!”

Keith nods along, looking equal parts pathetic and disgruntled as he sniffs and snorts and wipes on his shoulder in an effort to free the slushy-snot from his face. “Yeah, this is a lot of snowy.”

“Well we're almost there... look.” He points to the front porch of the cabin – hardly fifteen feet away – where the windows are already glowing with the promise of warmth and shelter. “Soon you two can curl up in front of the fire and we can plan the week's activities.”

“Inside activities?” Matt croaks, eyes pathetic and hopeful where he turns them on the back of Shiro's head. “Like checkers? Or baths?”

“Or hot chocolate,” Keith chimes in, nodding so vigorously the pom-pom on his hat looks like it's going to fly off, “or cuddling...”

“We can do all that,” Shiro concedes as he kicks through the last few feet until he can stand triumphantly on the bottom step of the porch. He offers a hand up first to Keith, then to Matt, hauling them up out of the little drift and onto firm ground. “Maybe some snowshoeing too?”

He gets a pair of grumbles in response as his boyfriends push past him and into the glow of the cabin.

“Can't believe they leave this thing unlocked,” Matt wonders, squinting around the cozy cabin like there might be a serial killer lurking.

“Why,” Keith grunts as he tugs Shiro inside and shuts the door behind him, “it's in the middle of nowhere and bears don't have thumbs. I never locked my shack.”

“There was nothing to steal in your shack except like... three year old cans of beans.”

“I think it's nice,” Shiro interjects before the conversation can devolve, peeling off his outwear with a smile, “it shows that there's a lot of trust here – what a beautiful feeling, right?”

“Sure.” Matt grunts and plops to the floor to take off his boots and snowpants. They might have laughed at him when he waddled out of the airport bathroom, but he's the one who doesn't have soggy pant legs to deal with. “I'm gonna make s'mores.”

“Can you do that inside?” Keith asks as he shucks his own outerwear – deftly avoiding his own soggy pants problem by losing them entirely. “I thought you needed a real campfire.”

“It's logs isn't it?” Matt shrugs, fishing out the supplies he'd tucked away in his duffle bag for safe keeping before shuffling over to the fire. He makes a show of patting the plush rug laid in front of it and stretches out his hands toward where it crackles merrily... he'll have to remember to leave the host five stars for having the place warm when they got here. “See? Grade A fire.”

“I think s'mores are a great idea, Matt.” Shiro beams at him and pads into the kitchen to gather up some plates and napkins – and a few cups to pour his still-hot thermos full of cocoa into. “We can start our vacation off right.”

“Technically we've been on vacation for almost a whole day now,” Keith points out as he tucks himself into Matt's side and stretches his feet toward the warmth. “The flight would've been starting it off right.”

“The flight was nice too.”

“We didn't crash at least.”

“That's a low bar, but okay.” Keith grunts, shaking his head as he's sandwiched between them when Shiro settles down. “Do we have sticks to toast the marshmallows?”

Crickets.

“Well, I'm sure there are sticks outside we could use,” Shiro sighs, starting to haul himself off the floor, because there's less than zero chance either of his two delicate flowers are going to brave the snow again tonight.

Matt snatches his pant leg with a huff. “Don't go back out there, it's no big deal.”

“You wanted s'mores-”

“It's _no big deal_.” Matt insists, flapping with his free hand before gathering up all his supplies. “We can just microwave the chocolate and put it on the graham cracker, the marshmallow doesn't need to be toasted.”

Keith manages to half-squash his noise of horror, plastering on a smile before Matt can whirl on him with his bony finger out. “Yeah, Shiro... it's no big deal, we'll manage.”

He still earns himself a sharp glance from Matt, who looks about ready to shank the next person that opens the door and lets in another cold gust of air now that he can finally feel his extremities.

“Okay... well, how about we at least get dinner started then?” Shiro asks, shuffling off toward the kitchen with enough optimism to kill a moose, “I'm sure I can whip something up quick-”

His boyfriends exchange panicked glances before scrambling up after him.

“What if you let me do it this time?” Keith pipes up, sliding in front of him before he can reach the fridge, “I'm used to making wilderness meals... it'll give me a chance to uh... show off my heritage?”

“Yeah,” Matt hugs Shiro from behind and wraps his arms tightly enough to lock Shiro's to his chest. “Let Keith play caveman for us, you know how sexy he is when he's good at something.”

Shiro perks at the reminder – always a slave to his raging competency kink – and lets Matt guide him toward one of the rustic stools around the table. “He does look great when he cooks...”

“Exactly, and you look great pouring cocoa.” Matt pats him on the ass and heads back to get the mugs. “It's best when we all stick to our specialties.”

“What's yours then?” Keith asks him with a grin as he rifles through the contents of the fridge, “Looking cute and shivering?”

“I am quite good at both of those,” Matt concedes as he clinks the mugs down onto the counter and ambles over to make room for himself in Shiro's lap where it's warmest. “but I can also microwave pretty well, and I had the foresight to bring chocolate...”

“Fair enough.” There's more clattering from the fridge, then a satisfied grunt as Keith pulls out a giant slab of... something... and a few vegetables. “This is some good venison, I can definitely make some chili with it if we have beans...” He makes his way over to the cupboard, crowing triumphantly when he peeks inside. “We're in business!”

“What are we selling?” Shiro snickers to himself as he slurps at his cocoa, utterly pleased when the other two groan. “Get it?”

“You're lucky you're cute,” Matt sighs, letting his head thud back into the crook of Shiro's chest and shoulder, “or we'd have ejected you for your crimes against humor by now.”

“No we wouldn't have,” Keith grunts from where he's crouched down to dig through the cupboards, “I'm not giving up that dick no matter how many bad jokes he makes.”

“Aww, baby!” Shiro coos, rocking up into Matt as if to remind him what he had been ready to throw away, “I love you too.”

“I was kidding,” Matt pouts and wriggles his ass back. “Love _me._ ”

“I love you both equally,” Shiro assures him, curling low to press a kiss to Matt's temple as if he were soothing a petulant child, “even though Keith can cook.”

“I suck dick better,” Matt grumbles, unable to argue because Keith is definitely the one that keeps them from living off ramen and takeout, especially since the man is currently making the food he's about to gorge on in the middle of nowhere with no delivery for at least twenty miles.

“You do.” Keith turns enough to wink at him, grabbing his crotch with one hand while he tips his knife at Matt with the other. “That's dessert.”

It is, in fact, dessert.

Too full of chili for the main event, they settle for a nice round of blowjobs and rubbing off like a bunch of horny teenagers. Plus it's fucking freezing in the back bedroom and there's no way any of them are going to have an ass out of the covers for that long. The only saving grace is that with the three of them all snuggled up close under a mountain of quilts there's enough trapped body heat to keep them from turning into meat popsicles.

But of course, now it's four in the morning, and Matt has to pee.

He briefly considers holding it until his eyeballs start to float, just so he won't have to jostle his bedmates and brave the cold, but the insistent twinge in his bladder tells him that it'll only take one sneeze for it to all be over – and somehow he doesn't think his boyfriends are into that.

Crawling out from the tangle of limbs is an ordeal in itself, trying to escape without waking anyone or kneeing anyone's balls is never easy when they both sleep like the world's most possessive octopus. Still, he thinks he manages well – there's no disgruntled grumbling, and the only miserable person appears to be him.

Because it's fucking _freezing._

His teeth start chattering immediately, just in time for his nose to start to drip, making him a snotsicle in the time it takes to shuffle to the bathroom.

And _of course_ the toilet seat is made of pure ice. He's pretty sure his delicate buns are going to be stuck to it – he certainly can't pee standing with his dick trying to curl itself up into his body cavity. The poor thing looks like two shriveled grapes on a withered stem. It's not much better when he stands to flush though – judging by the groan of the pipes and lack of water, they've probably frozen solid overnight.

Good thing the chili hasn't run its course yet.

Shivering hard enough to rattle his eyeballs, he dashes back to the bedroom and leaps beneath the covers, letting in a gust of cold air that has Keith's nose wrinkling in his sleep.

Cute.

Mission accomplished, he wedges himself tightly between them again, gratified by the way they curl up against him even when he shoves his freezing toes into the tops of their wool socks.

He thinks, vaguely, before drifting off to sleep, that they're probably the best boyfriends in the world.

At approximately eight in the morning Matt decides that he has the worst boyfriends in the world.

Keith is crouched by the all but dead fire, grimacing as he shivers and pokes at it with a metal thing of indeterminate usefulness. “Looks like we didn't bank it well enough last night.”

“I don't know what that means,” Matt chatters from the couch, wrapped in at least two quilts and still unable to feel his extremities. “Why couldn't we just leave it hot?”

“Cabin might burn down,” Shiro explains, like Matt's an eight year old and not suffering from hypothermia. “We don't have the insurance for that.”

“I'm sure it was in the rental contract,” Matt grumbles, unwilling to free his hands to check if it means exposing any part of him to the air.

“It shouldn't take that long to get it going,” Keith grunts and dusts himself off as he stands, then goes and does manly things by a pile of wood. “Maybe half an hour?”

Matt's groan is thin and pathetic, and doesn't garner nearly as much sympathy as it should. He'll probably be dead in half an hour, frozen solid. He bets they'll be sorry then.

“We could always go do something outside?” Shiro offers, like an utter fucking lunatic. “We're already cold, so the net temperature change would be less painful, and we could leave the fire banked correctly this time so when we come back it'll seem extra warm.”

“That's not a bad idea.” Keith is nodding at Shiro with that look on his face, the one that means he's an idiot in love and will agree to anything their boyfriend says regardless of the pain it may cause one or both of them. “We could go snowshoeing – once we get moving we'll be sweating in no time.”

Matt groans again, determined to die on this couch before either of them can drag him into snowshoeing of all things. The only time he actively seeks out sweaty activity is when they're the ones making him sweat – none of this physical exertion bullshit. He can see the snow outside perfectly well through this frosty fucking window... which is frosty because it's so fucking cold the glass is all frozen.

“Come on, Matt,” Shiro wheedles, sliding up next to his mound of blankets with that puppy dog look of his, “Keith's butt looks really good in his ski suit... you could bring up the rear and have yourself a nice view all day.”

“And get eaten by a bear when you two outpace me.”

He's not pouting, really.

“What about sledding?” Keith offers as he pokes around doing fire things, “You love sledding.”

It's true. He does... or at least he did as a kid the last time he lived around snow and not in the middle of the fucking desert.

“Mmrrrrnnnn... _maybe._ ”

Shiro whoops and leans in close to press a kiss to Matt's cheek, his chilly nose freezing a spot on his forehead where it bumps. “You won't regret it, sweetheart.” He presses kisses all over the rest of Matt's face until he's laughing, attempting struggle out of his mountain of blankets to push him away. “I'm gonna keep you so warm and cozy later you'll _want_ to go back outside.”

Keith snorts, finally dropping the fire poking stick, and comes over to add to Matt's torment from the other side.

“Thank you for being so good, Matty,” he purrs, grinning at the way Matt's cheeks heat up instantly. “I'll be sure to give my good boy a reward later.”

“This is cheating!” Matt squeaks, giving up and slumping back into a puddle to be smothered in affection. “I already agreed – mercy!”

Laughing, they unbundle him from his blankets and set about bundling him back up in cozy snow gear, tugging him by mittened hands out into a world of sparkling white. There's snowflakes on Keith's eyelashes and coating Shiro's floof where it sticks out from his hat. Their cheeks flush with laughter and exhilaration as they whiz down the hill – and when they obligingly tow Matt back up on a sled every time.

They're beautiful, and he loves them... maybe even enough to admit that he might enjoy this frozen hellscape.


End file.
